


Tea and Antipathy

by isayoldbean



Category: Mahou Sensei Negima!
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Angst and Humor, Character of Color, Female Characters, Female Friendship, Femslash if you squint, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Mild Language, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Present Tense, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isayoldbean/pseuds/isayoldbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several years after the end of the manga, Chisame has settled comfortably back into her life as a hikikomori and sees no real reason to change - until, that is, an unexpected visitor comes along to throw a monkey wrench into everything. Typical, really. You'd think she'd expect it by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea and Antipathy

**Author's Note:**

> This was a response to a prompt I was given on tumblr that kind of got out of hand. The original prompt was: Video Game, Chisame/Chachamaru (Friendship or Romantic, your choice). I'm not really sure whether it turned out as romance or friendship, so whichever you want to see it as is fine with me.
> 
> In addition, this is basically unbeta'd - so if you see anything that's a bit off, please feel free to whack me upside the head for it.
> 
> Also yes, the title is an awful pun. No, I'm not sorry.

Every day it’s the same routine: Wake up and roll out of bed. In the process of doing so, bang your knee on the bedside table. Curse. Proceed to shamble into the bathroom like the maladjusted sleep zombie you are. Brush your teeth and - only if you feel like it - your hair.

You don’t feel like it today.

Next, somehow find your way into the kitchen. Drop the tea kettle on your foot. Curse again. Finally succeed in making some tea. Take the first sip; it’s not completely terrible, and at last you actually feel alive.

Well, sort of. For certain values of “alive.”

Contemplate changing out of your pajamas. Laugh. After all, it’s not like you’re planning on going outside anytime soon. Briefly stop to figure out why that is. _Oh, that’s right!_ You remember now.

_Weirdos._ Weirdos everywhere.

Ever since the world found out about the existence of magic, you can’t get away from it anymore. Weirdness is _everywhere._ Everywhere except your nice, dark, cozy apartment - which is exactly why you’re not planning on going outside anytime soon. You had your fill of weirdness back when you were stranded in the Magic World. And, sure, you’ve come to terms with the fact that magic exists and, okay, it’s not _the worst thing ever_ the way you always made it out to be. But still… that doesn’t mean you actually have to do anything about it. You weren’t exactly sociable _before_ all the weirdness started, so why should you go out of your way to do it now? And, okay, maybe your frien… uh, _classmates_ back at Mahora weren’t quite as intolerable as you had always thought. So what? They’re all out leading exciting, interesting lives. Why bother them with… whatever it is you might bother them with? Besides, it’s not like you’re not doing your part to change the world. You just prefer to stay behind the scenes.

So that settles it. No going outside again today. After all, you wouldn’t want to become a target. You might get dragged back into all of the weirdness if that happened. No, best to play a supporting role from the safety of your computer.

Oh, computer. May it never leave you.

Speaking of which, it’s about time in your daily routine to sit down at your desk and turn on your laptop. You’ll probably spend most of the day on it. That is until halfway through your seventh flame war of the day, when you’ll start to wonder why you’re so much crankier and more aggressive than usual. Then you’ll realize you’re not wearing your glasses and, oh, you also have a killer headache because of it. You’ll decide to take a break from the computer and grab a snack, whereupon you’ll probably crash on the couch and stare at the ceiling for a half an hour. Then you’ll get bored again and decide to play video games.

That never lasts very long, though.

Not anymore.

Video games have always been an escape, a way to forget about the world. Now the world is just as weird as your games, though. Somehow the appeal just isn’t there anymore.

After a futile fifteen minutes you’ll give up and get back on your computer, where you’re not constantly reminded of the fact that the world’s gone mad. Mad and weird. Hours will pass, and you’ll realize after the tenth time you’ve yawned that you’ve stayed up way too late again. As you crawl back into bed, you’ll happen to glance at the framed photo of class 3-A’s graduation that sits on your nightstand, and you’ll have to turn away just as quickly. You have no idea why you still have that thing there, except maybe that it’s a symbol of every reason you never leave the house anymore - and sometimes you just _really_ need a reminder.

You roll over and pull the covers up, ready to fall asleep so that you can wake up and start the whole cycle over again and pretend it’s enough. Lather, rinse, repeat. Every day it’s the same routine.

Except for today.

Today, you’re in the “futile fifteen minutes of attempting to play video games” stage of your daily schedule when there’s a knock on the door. That, in and of itself, is not particularly surprising. Just let them knock, you figure. Eventually they’ll get the hint and go away.

Then the person at your door starts talking, and immediately you can feel your headache coming back.

“Chisame-san,” she says, voice as gentle and disturbingly human as ever, “I know you’re inside. Please open the door, or I’m afraid I will have to initiate my battering ram sub-routine.”

That damned robot. What is she doing here? For a moment, you have to think about which option you find more irritating - that she dropped by out of the blue after years of no contact simply to have a doubtlessly annoying chat, or that she’s only coming to see you because she needs something. Both are annoying enough to consider, but—

Wait, _battering ram?!_

You pause your game and make your way to the door, if for no other reason than to avoid the property damage that will surely occur if you don’t, and open it just enough to peek out. You hope you look appropriately Not Pleased and not at all like you might secretly be glad to see her. Because you’re not. That’s just absurd. “Why are you here, Chachamaru?”

“I’ve come on behalf of Negi-sensei.” It’s a simple answer, but one that no doubt succeeds in pissing you right off.

Of course your first instinct is to yell and swear and ask why he was so busy that he couldn’t come see you himself, but instead you just say “I see,” because it’s all you can manage without ripping Chachamaru’s head off. Maybe you’ve mellowed out since your school days, but you just can’t bring yourself to shoot the messenger anymore.

Apparently she’s slightly concerned by the fact that you aren’t verbally assaulting her and have instead chosen to let her inside. That just pisses you off even more. “Look, robot girl. Are you coming in or not?”

She smiles then - a warm, gracious, appreciative smile - and steps inside. In that moment, you are sure you hate her more than you have ever hated anybody else in your entire life. You hate her for showing up on your doorstep unannounced. You hate her for being a magically animated robot that seems to exist solely to rub the reality of all this screwy fictional stuff in your face. More than that, you hate her for managing to somehow be more human than you will ever be in spite of that. It’s not fair for you to feel that way, of course. It’s not her fault. You realize that. So you decide to take a few deep, cleansing breaths and wait for her to explain the current situation.

When she finally does, you are understandably suspicious. The “help” that Negi wants to enlist you to do is way too easy. Childishly so. You won’t even need to use your artifact to get it done - which, much to your dismay, you actually find disappointing. As you slip the thumb drive she gave you into your computer and pull up the relevant files, your eyes drift to the top right drawer of your desk. Opening it, you pull out your pactio card and run your fingers over its surface, feeling the magical current prickling along your hand and up your arm. Maybe you should take it for a test run, just to see if it still works…

You’ve almost forgotten that Chachamaru is still there, but then she says something and you jump, quickly jamming the card into the waistband of your sweatpants. Hopefully she didn’t see that and you can act like she just interrupted your work. “Did you say something?”

“I was wondering how long you think it would take.”

“Oh,” you say. Somehow you get the feeling it won’t be the last unintelligent thing you’re going to say before this is all over. “Not long at all. Half an hour, tops.” You turn back to the task at hand, expecting that to be the last of it. After a few moments, though, Chachamaru pipes up again.

“Would it be acceptable if I made some tea while I waited?”

You can’t help but snicker at that. Old habits really do die hard. “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t break anything.” Your fingers slide into place over the keyboard and you get to work as the strangely soothing sounds of Chachamaru puttering around the kitchen fill the air. _This shouldn’t take long,_ you think, probably in an effort to avoid thinking about why you find the idea of Chachamaru in your kitchen to be _soothing_ of all things.

That’s still bothering you, by the way - there’s no reason you can think of that Chachamaru couldn’t do this herself. Well, maybe if she was too busy… That’s extremely doubtful, though, seeing as how she’s opted to stick around while you work. Not to mention that she showed up in person - usually when Negi needs something he just sends you a message. _What could she be hiding…_

Your train of thought is interrupted when Chachamaru sets a steaming cup of green tea down in front of you. For a moment, all you can do is sit there and blink at it like an idiot. Then you realize you’re being impolite again - and for some reason you can’t quite explain, it bothers you - so you mutter an awkward thanks and take a sip. And oh, wow, it’s _fantastic._ You wonder what it is that you’ve been drinking all these years, because it sure as hell doesn’t taste like this. You thank her again, taking care this time to make sure she knows you’re sincere.

Somehow, though, you get the feeling she already knows.

As you get back to work, you hear Chachamaru seat herself on the couch against the far wall. “This video game…” she begins softly, hesitantly, and you can’t tell if she’s talking to you or just thinking out loud. “Master has this game. I’ve seen her play it on many occasions.”

You’re not sure why it makes you bristle so much to hear Chachamaru still refer to that vampire brat as her master after all these years, but it does. Why is that? It’s not like you’ve changed all that much either, have you? “Oh, I forgot to turn it off earlier,” you say in the hopes of distracting yourself from that particularly disturbing line of thought. “You can go ahead and play it if you want to.”

“Oh, but I’ve never actually played one before. Is it really okay?”

You can’t help but pick up on her nervousness. Evangeline probably never let her play, come to think of it, although you’re not sure whether it was out of some sense of selfishness or just that she was afraid of losing. How childish. What sort of vampire plays video games, anyway? That’s always bugged you. Whatever, not important. “Sure, it’s fine. You can play the level I was on. I wasn’t too optimistic about how it was going anyway. Don’t worry if you don’t catch on right away, though, because—”

_“Congratulations! New High Score!”_

What.

_What._

You jump to your feet, vaguely registering the sound of your chair clattering to the floor, and whirl around to face her. _That damned robot!_

“I was led to believe these were a good deal more difficult,” Chachamaru says simply, looking back down at the controller. “Perhaps Master just isn’t very good at them,” she adds, almost as an afterthought, and you can feel that one vein in your forehead start to throb. _Maybe you’re just abnormally good at them, you freakshow! Don’t tar all of us gamers with one brush!_

“That’s it!” you shout, hands balled into fists at your side, and Chachamaru looks up at you in mild alarm. You’re probably being irrational - no, you’re _definitely_ being irrational - but at this point you’re seeing too much red to care. Sure, you may not be as enthusiastic about your games as you used to, but you’ve spent months, _years_ of your life honing your skills, hunting down every last secret, exploring every last nook and cranny of every level to ensure that you were among the best players in existence. You aren’t about to let an absolute newbie badmouth one of your previously most beloved hobbies!

This is a matter of _pride._

A matter of _honor._

“I can deal with you dropping by unexpectedly! I can deal with your suspicious behavior! I can even deal with you being _impossibly, superhumanly good_ at video games, even with no prior experience! But I _draw the line_ at you talking shit about gamers!”

Chachamaru looks at you like you’ve suddenly grown a few extra appendages. Hell, maybe you have. “I did not intend any offense by my statement. I simply—”

“Cut the crap! It’s too late for that! _Karakuri Chachamaru!_ ” You pause to dramatically jab a finger in her direction, the air crackling with the intensity of your declaration. _“On behalf of all gamers of the world, I, Hasegawa Chisame, challenge you!”_

Well, it’s official. You’ve finally succumbed.

You’re one of them.

_You’re a weirdo._

Dammit, and you were trying _so hard._

Oh well. You have more important things to worry about right now.

Things like apparently that damned robot _cheats_. There’s no other explanation for it.

There’s no other explanation for how, less than thirty seconds after the beginning of your duel, you’ve been completely dismantled and she has a seven digit score. As you stare at the screen in disbelief, you try to scour your brain for the perfect words to describe the ridiculousness of the situation. “You’ve _got_ to be shitting me.” Yes. Yes, that will do nicely.

Chachamaru is staring at the controller in her lap again. Seriously, she is really pissing you off today. “Perhaps I merely do not understand the objective of the—”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” How _dare_ she try to act gracious after just humiliating you like that! She should learn to rub it in like a normal person! You’re on your feet now, trying to restrain the urge to escalate this situation into something more physical. After all, you’re rather fond of this apartment and you wouldn’t want to accidentally destroy it in the heat of the moment - like that awkward time during the sports festival when you made the mistake of setting off her artifact by accident - so instead you swallow down your rage and try to focus on something more constructive. That’s when you remember that your pactio card is still tucked into your waistband, and you can’t help but smirk.

Fine then. If she wants to play dirty, then you’ll play dirty.

“Chachamaru! _I challenge you to a rematch!_ ”

Five seconds into the match and you can tell it’s happening again. You don’t know how she’s doing it, but it must have something to do with her being a robot. Well, you know how to counteract that. Without another word, you snatch your pactio card out of your sweatpants and hold it up. _“Adeat!”_

“Chisame-san, what are you doing?” Chachamaru shouts over the sound of your artifact springing into existence. “That’s cheating!”

You swing the rod experimentally, just to make sure you remember how it feels. It feels… better than you remember, actually. Ignoring the voices of your digital assistants who are currently asking how they can assist you, you let out a short, sardonic laugh and turn to face her. “Ha! You’re hardly one to lecture me about _cheating,_ are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb - you’re doing some kind of screwy robot shit, aren’t you?”

Chachamaru looks at you like she’s doesn’t understand what language you’re speaking, which is refreshing since she’s probably programmed to understand damn near all of them. She opens her mouth to say something, but you cut her off before she can get any words out.

“I’m on to you, robot girl, and I have news for you: _Two can play at that game!_ ” With that, you activate your artifact.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Time blurs and folds in on itself. As far as you’re concerned, it doesn’t exist. There is only this moment. The pride of gamers everywhere has long been forgotten, replaced with the singular thought that _you are the greatest goddamn hacker in the world, and nobody better forget it._ It’s been _years_ since you’ve felt this alive.

It’s such a clarifying, enlightening experience that you can’t even bring yourself to feel upset when it ends in a draw.

You sag into the couch, exhausted and out of breath, and congratulate her on a good game.

Chachamaru has enough grace to seem surprised. “You did very well too, Chisame-san.”

There’s silence for a few moments, and even though it’s a comfortable one, it still makes you feel awkward. So you decide to do something you don’t normally do in order to fill it up: You laugh. It sounds bitter to your ears, but at least it’s a start. Chachamaru looks at you curiously, almost expectantly, and suddenly your curiosity from before is back and you just don’t have the energy to hold it in any longer. “Hey, be honest with me. What was the real reason you dropped by today?”

You can’t help but notice that she’s having trouble looking you in the eye. “I-I was just in the neighborhood, and—”

"Chachamaru,” you say in a tone that implies you are not buying that trite excuse in the least.

“Very well. Negi-sensei gave me some time off because my birthday is coming up. I told him he shouldn’t bother since I am just a robot, and therefore have minimal appreciation for the date of my awakening, but he insisted.”

You’re not sure how you feel about her “just a robot” comment. It’s true, of course. She _is_ a robot. But something about it just sounds so… depressing. Does she have no self-esteem at all? Didn’t she learn anything about the nature of humanity from the Magic World? If she was a fictional character, that would be the whole point of her character arc! So what gives? Why does she still sound so resigned to being unimportant? Why is she ignoring all of her character development?! Dammit, if you were reading a story where that happened, you’d be pissed off on behalf of the characters! That would be a terrible ending! You can’t let that happen, so you make a note to talk some sense into her about that later. But for now, she still has some explaining to do. “So you decided to spend your time off annoying me? Is that it?”

“Well, actually… the rest of our friends insisted that I have a party. I was going over the list of who was invited to make sure there were no omissions or errors, when I saw your name. Then I started thinking about how I hadn’t seen you in a very long time—” her eyes quickly dart from the armrest to your eyes and then back again, “—and you are a very good friend…”

Great. Here comes that best friend crap again… It should be obvious to anybody with any sense at all that they were nothing of the sort. Seriously, what kind of best friends don’t talk to each other for years at a time? Not to mention that all you two do when you’re together is fight. Well, okay, so it’s not so much fighting as it is just you yelling at her. Between you and Evangeline, maybe that’s how she thinks a healthy relationship is supposed to work.

The thought makes you extremely nauseous.

You’re startled back to the present when she thrusts an envelope into your hands. “…and so I thought I would invite you in person, since it’s been so long. The work was just a flimsy pretext.”

For some reason, this whole situation is making you feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside. You’re not sure whether that’s more or less annoying than the fact that you’re actually kind of enjoying it. _Dammit._ You look the invitation over one more time, taking in the pink color and the cat stickers that decorate it, and you can’t help but smile. She really is so predictible. “Heh. For somebody who was just born a few years ago, you’re developing quite a little devious streak.”

“I’m sorry… It was wrong of me,” she says guiltily, and something about it is just so damn _heartbreaking._ “I’ll leave now.” And immediately she rises from the couch and heads for the door.

“Wait,” you say, and Chachamaru does. “You don’t have to go just yet if you don’t want to.” Suddenly you feel very embarrassed, and you’re not quite sure why. It could be the entire situation, and it probably is.

Chachamaru smiles then, and you wonder if she has some sort of internal LED that makes her face light up like that or if it’s natural.

“And, uh… if you want to, you can… drop by again. You know, just… whenever you happen to be in the neighborhood.” Wow. You sound like an idiot. It’s obvious you have no idea what you’re doing. “Maybe we can… play video games again or something.”

“Well,” Chachamaru says after thinking a moment, “I don’t know that I understand the appeal of video games now that I’ve played them. But… I’d like that.”

You have to laugh a little at that because, to be honest, you couldn’t see the appeal of video games either until today. Of course, you used to love the element of escapism, of fantasy. The fact that you could do things with them that you couldn’t do in real life. Now that that aspect is gone, though, you’ve learned to see it differently - and it’s all thanks to her. Now you see that it’s not about what you do. What’s important is who you do it _with._ For a moment, you think about telling her that. But that’s way too much sentimentality, especially for you. It still feels weird to even _think_ it, let alone to verbalize it. So instead you just say, “Well, whatever you want to do, then.”

That night, as you crawl into bed, your eyes fall on the picture of class 3-A, as they always do. But this time, your eyes linger just a bit longer than usual. It’s just a feeling you have, but for some reason you think that, maybe, from now on, it won’t always be the same routine every day. And if you’re completely honest with yourself, it’s a little bit exciting. Next to the picture, Chachamaru’s invitation is opened and displayed as a reminder. You make a mental note of the date, smiling before you can stop yourself.

_It’s not about what you do. What’s important is who you do it_ with.

Maybe, just maybe, leaving the house might not be such a bad idea after all.


End file.
